Without
by Ryla Dante
Summary: Just a small tag for a scene from Salvation...What if Sam had gone back into the house? This little thing is pointless, I was bored. It is not that good, so bleh! hehe! Just doing something in between stories!


A/N: Okay I got really bored between stories...and this one just came to me (damned plot bunnies...got to feed them before they become ravenous...hehe) I have had this idea for a little while actually, but it really boiled over just a bit ago, so I had to get rid of it...It is rather pointless, but what the hell!! Takes place just at the end of "Salvation"...so not any spoilers to speak of then...

Disclaimer: Kripke owns all characters...if there is anything left, I will claim them as my own!!

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"Sam no..."

Dean's grip on his brother began to slip. He had held him so tight that night when their mother had died, had made it his responsibility to see that Sam lived. Dean had run from that very house with Sammy in his arms and watched as it was engulfed in flames moments before their father rushed out and rushed them away to safety. Now here they were in the same predicament, save for the fact that their father could not stop Sam from running back in like the fool he seemed to be.

"But it's still in there. Let me go!"

Dean fought to keep his baby brother close, always did, but Sam was stubborn to a fault. Today was the worst time for him to lose his head and go running full force into a raging inferno. Yet as Dean felt the fabric of his brother's jacket slip from his fingertips, he knew there was nothing more he could do. He reached again, but by this point Sam had sped up and was half way across the yard. Before Dean could blink Sam had crashed through the front door and raced into the calamity that would claim his very soul.

Dean could only gawk as he heard Sam scream at the daemon that stared down at them from the bedroom window, his outline shimmering as the flames licked at him like a child with an ice cream cone in the middle of a July day. He began to flicker wildly then in a split second was gone leaving Dean to scream for his baby brother. Sam's shadows replaced that of the darkness that had inhabited the window and a moment later he was gone, taken by the intense heat of the blue and red flames.

Dean shot up in his bed, the phone ringing. He lunged for it, praying he had been dreaming. The screen read: "John Winchester." Surprised his father had contacted him after all this time, he snapped the phone open and slowly spoke. His father was cordial and acted as if he had heard nothing of the incident that had taken place. Dean could take it no longer and let it all go. He told his father everything and then simply waited.

What surprised him was the fact that his father actually laughed at him. Dean was pissed. He knew he and Sam never got along all that well, but to actually laugh at the fact that Sam had just tragically died was not exactly his father's style. Something was wrong.

"Dad, what the hell is the matter with you. My brother, _your_ son, is dead and you are laughing like..."

John stopped laughing and cut his son off. The next thing out of his mouth was ever more shocking than his laughter. He spoke clearly and precisely so that Dean could understand him, but was still lost.

"Son, I don't know how much whisky you consumed last night, but you don't have a brother, and I don't have another son. Are you sure you're okay?"

A scream threatened to escape at that very moment. His father was losing it, or maybe it was not even his father at all. It could have been a shape shifter or some other vile creature imitating his father. So he tested him.

"Dad, mom died when Sam and I were kids right? By fire right? You have been chasing her killer, a daemon, ever since..."

That was when his father almost screamed himself. The phone line went silent and for a moment Dean was sure he had thrown this creature for a goddamn loop, but then his father coughed and spoke with that same tone, as if he were speaking to a foreign man.

"Listen Dean. Your mother is perfectly fine, in fact she is upstairs right now getting ready to go see your grandmother. Plus what the hell are you talking about daemons for? I have been working at the garage for the last 20 plus years. You know that Dean. Maybe you should really go back to sleep and call me later when you sober up. I think someone slipped you something."

The call cut off and Dean held his phone in a shaky hand unsure what he had just heard. Setting the phone on the beside table he realised he_ was_ in a motel, yet there was only a single bed in the room. No other clothes lying around, no laptop or empty coffee containers on a table. Dean swallowed hard pulling his knees to his chest his entire body suddenly cold.

He stayed that way for a few minutes when he saw something flicker near the bathroom door. Adjusting his eyes, Dean caught the outline of a person, or what he perceived to be one. As the flickering increased so did the outline. A hand shot to his face as he realised who was standing in his room. It was Sam, or a version of him. He was in another plane far from Dean's touch, yet at this point Dean would have been too afraid to do just that. Sam lifted his arm and pointed at his brother not saying anything for a time. Then one single word slipped from his mouth, ghostly and with a hollow sound.

"Without..."

Dean reached for his brother, but the ethereal body darkened and vanished leaving him with a bigger hole than before. As he dropped his hand his phone rang yet again. He stared at it in vain, not sure he wanted to talk to anyone else, but decided he had to. Clicking it open his eyes shot open and the phone fell to the floor with a thud.

"But it's still in there. Let me go!"

Dean pulled, his grip slipping. He stared at his surrounding unaware of what the hell he had just experienced, but he knew there was no way in hell he was going to lose his brother, not this time. Dean could feel Sam fighting hard against his claw like grasp, but he yanked and Sam was against him, yelling that he had to be inside, that it was never going to be over. Dean screamed back at him.

"So you have to kill yourself. Is that it?

"If need be then yeah."

Dean growled. He would like to have a normal life if that damned thing was not around, but not at the expense of his baby brother. Dean pulled Sam to face him and could feel body heat and it was almost as warm as the fire itself.

"Not on my watch kiddo, not on my watch."

Sam pushed him away and charged off. The kid had a death wish that was for sure but at least now, tonight, he had stopped it from being one that would change all their lives forever, and not necessarily for the better. A life without his brother was no life at all.


End file.
